Symphony of the Night
by Caravere
Summary: When sexual frustration begins to plague the Night Hunter, she resolves to purge it. Her target? Only the most naive and innocent summoner of the League. What she never expects is that when you play with fire, you get burned. Rated M for explicit sexual content.


Hey guys, I'm not dead. At least not yet. Someone very special to me requested a full-length short story on Miss Vayne. This is dedicated to you.

And of course, rated M for explicit sexual content.

* * *

The Nexus began to glow brilliantly as one of her silver bolts swiftly embedded itself deep into the crystalline structure, nimbly tumbling away from the frozen grasp of Lissandra and finally concluding the gruelling match.

The swirling magical energies of the crystal began to cluster and concentrate on its center, the Nexus then gleamed even brighter before violently exploding into smithereens, the resulting feedback sending shards of various sizes of the obliterated crystal in all directions. The voice of the presiding summoner high above them declared the victory of her team, cutting off all telepathic links between the summoners and champions and placing everyone in the Summoner's Rift in a temporal stasis for the teleportation back to the Institute of War.

She gingerly locked in place yet another silver bolt into the groove of her wrist-mounted crossbow as she felt the familiar pull on her consciousness, the bright blue light enveloping her body and teleporting her back to Summoning Chambers.

Vayne closed her eyes, waiting it out and opening them immediately when she felt the solid stone of the platform beneath her high-heeled boots, the cold wintry bite of the night of the Rift whisking away almost instantly and the warmth of the Summoning Chambers quickly sinking in.

She wiped off the beads of perspiration that had trickled down her forehead with the back of a gloved hand, the sticky sweat had plastered the loose stands of jet-black hair that had fell from the tight braid to her flushed cheeks, which was unfortunately more prominent on her pale complexion.

She breathed heavily, almost audible in the resonant hollow space of the Summoning Chambers. It doesn't matter however, the loud obnoxious cheering of Braum and Gragas has covered any hints of her vulnerabilities.

One might call her paranoid when she didn't even want anyone to know that the match had wore her out – not that it had, it was something else – , no matter how much modestly human that may be. She strongly felt that she had a reputation to maintain and that an immaculate image must be preserved.

However, it is not an issue of pride. It is a principle of hers that she mustn't show any signs or even the slight insinuation of weakness. The evil creatures that lurk in the night will exploit and use anything that they could get their scheming claws on to bring her down, she is the only obstacle that was standing in between them and the people of Runeterra. If she were to fall, who else would stop them? These cunning and despicable fiends exist solely to wreak havoc and destruction and to bring pain and suffering onto the innocents. She herself was one of the many unfortunate victims... but she knew that if no one were to stand up and fight back, she would have to do it. It was her duty to stop them, to prevent others from sharing the same fate. That was exactly why she had dedicated her entire life to hunting down these wretched abominations.

She was preparing to retire back to her room after she had reloaded the massive crossbow that was slung on the harness at her back and as when she was fastening down her gauntlets and high-heeled greaves, it happened again.

This time, it had hit her so hard that she almost doubled over at the shock of it. There was a fixed recurring pattern to it, she sardonically noted. It was just like the last few times but only to return each time more powerful and twice as violent.

She could feel her entire body aching with desperate need, her heartbeat was so quick and impatient that she could feel it hammer against her ribcage in a frenzied protest. Hot sweat began to pour out once again from all crevices in an escalation of her indisposition, the blood rushing through her veins felt more like molten lava, searing and incinerating her from inside out. She gritted her teeth as her body throbbed with sheer desire, liquid fire pooling at the pit of her belly, threatening to drown her from within if she doesn't begin to the douse the flames.

It seized her muscles forcefully and shredded her nerves with pleas of gratification as the peak approached. Labored breathing slowly began to mount up and soon thrusted into hyperventilation, the synthetic leather bodysuit that clung on to her lithe body like a second skin felt claustrophobic as it stuck itself to her clammy skin, damp from her sweat.

It was the most intense in the first few moments of it, she had quickly learned to let it ride it out and not fight it back, after which she could then return back to the private confines of behind closed doors to take care of the problem. She let out a breath in relief that she couldn't even remember holding in for the longest after the worst had passed and her 'affliction' had settled back down to lying dormant.

But it was getting worse, it had started to return sooner even when she had masturbated not long before. She was always in a constant state of arousal and it was ridiculously distracting. It was starting to interfere with her life and it was hopelessly spiralling out of control. She had travelled out into the Kumungu Jungles a few nights ago hunting down a coven of witches when it had returned to bite her in the ass, she had almost gotten herself captured and was this close to being made into a sacrificial tribute to their earthen gods but the fact remained that she was Shauna Vayne and that she always comes out on top.

This incident had pushed her to realise and finally come to the terms with herself that she needed someone to – the "f" word was just too obscene and crass for her tastes – _do it with_. It was a close shave and she didn't need that happening again, who knows whether the next time she would be so lucky not to succumb to it? Although she wasn't comfortable with doing it with a stranger, she didn't even have much friends to begin with, or dare she even say, romantic interests. She did have short casual interactions with other regular people aside from Agatha, her caretaker and housekeeper, but there was nobody else that she could call a true friend, only acquaintances that were beneficial or simply out of convenience.

It pretty much meant that she was socially inept and that an autistic person would probably have a larger social circle than she did. It doesn't matter, all she just needs was someone to do _it_ with , she doesn't necessarily need him to be romantically interested in her but she would prefer it if he wasn't a total creep or a disgusting pervert.

It was then that she had thought of the perfect person for the job. He was everything that she needed. It also helped that he was quite endearingly attractive – there is no way anyone would get her to admit that he was cute – so it would probably help the deed go alot smoother. She could already feel herself getting wetter at the thought of losing her virginity to him, and taking his own – she was definitely sure that he was a virgin, don't ask why, it was pretty damn obvious – , it would feel _so_ good, or at least that is how the erotic novels that she had obtained through discreet means had sensually narrated it to her.

She would leaf through the fresh crisp pages of the novel slowly, patiently taking in every single word that was masterfully dictated and picturing every golden moment of vividly realistic detail that had played out in her enraptured mind, painting an evocatively lucid and abstractly explicit masterpiece that she would fantasize and satisfy herself to for many nights.

She could only imagine how good would the real thing would feel like.

Judging from the screams that came from Sarah Fortune's room a few nights ago, it must have been out of this world. She had actually seen the whole spectacle, she was on her way back from the Vayne Manor when she had witnessed the bounty hunter pistol-whipping Summoner Belen on the back of his head, instantly knocking him out and then proceeding to drag his unconscious body into her room like a hungry lion dragging a dead gazelle back into its den.

She had paced up and down the corridor for the longest time, waiting and listening closely for any signs of activity to which there was none. She was about to knock on the door and ask her what the hell was she thinking, assaulting and abducting a summoner when she had heard moans of pleasure coming from inside of the room.

Now that caught her completely off-guard, she couldn't believe her ears. Crouching to her feet and leaning against the wooden door, she heard it again. Loud groans and lewd sucking noises had told her what she needed to know, rolling her eyes in disgust and contempt, she quietly returned back to her room.

After she had tucked herself in for the night with thick duvets and comfortable pillows, she was looking forward to get a good night's sleep when muffled screams and moans seeped in through the walls of her room.

She groaned.

Despite being kept up all night, courtesy of the loud and furious love-making next door, she wasn't going to lie, she was now more than just a little curious.

Arrangements had already been made and everything was in order, all that is left to do now is to wait but that doesn't mean that the problem _now_ was going to take care of itself.

She smiled to herself jubilantly in anticipation of the predetermined date, exuberant and uncharacteristically radiant as she stepped off the platform and stalked off towards the exit of the chambers, ignoring the dumbfounded stares of a confused Lux behind her as both summoners and champions on opposing teams exchanged their regards.

Pleasantries aren't necessary.

* * *

The dark hallway wound around her as she paced across the glossy black marble floor pensively, it had reminded her of that day where she had called him out after his own match for a – simple proposition.

It wasn't a deal, nor a contract and definitely not a transaction. It was an _understanding_ that the both of them had to come to, he simply just needed help seeing it her way.

It wasn't that difficult nor was it complicated, there had been some unforeseen circumstances and that she merely requires some assistance in rectifying the problem.

It was a win-win situation with both parties benefiting from each other's efforts with nothing to lose, it was a healthy symbiotic relationship where the both of them are interdependent on each other to further their own objectives and aspirations.

She would continue to help him win his matches and presumably pave the way to the promotion to a higher division and then he could gratefully _return the favour_ by helping her out with her – situation. That was just it but _nooo_ , he had to read too much into it and make it seem as if that she was _that_ sort of person.

She had undoubtedly predicted his reaction even before she finished explaining the details. She couldn't say that she had not seen it coming but she just didn't expect it to be so exaggerated. She just stared at him blankly and observed as she waited sourly for a response. She didn't even get one. Even a negative one would have to be bitterly accepted but from what it looks like, she might have just broke him.

From the heated blush that fanned across his cheeks.

The complete loss of a pathetic attempt of a cool composure.

The fidgeting of his timid fingers, so flustered that his knuckles had turned bone-white.

Down to the nervous abuse of the lower lip and the inability of his exquisite indigo eyes to meet her own obsidian ones.

It was then that she knew she couldn't have made a better choice.

He stammered and stuttered shyly – perhaps not shyly, that would be an understatement to say the least. It's more of a state of dramatic bashfulness in which his naive mind was severely inhibited by her 'indecency' and all that he could do was blush harder and mumble incoherent words.

Her cold eyes began to narrow in agitation, this _boy_ was starting to test what little patience she had left with his hemming and hawing. Seeing as there was no other options left available, she would just have to force his hand at an answer then.

And with that, she threw an ultimatum at him – relent and accede to the proposed arrangement or never summon her ever again.

Now that he was pushed against the edge of the cliff and left with nowhere to run, he reluctantly nodded and tilted his head down in shame – then again, it's not as if he had a choice to begin with, especially if it was her that he was dealing with.

Satisfied with his answer, she scooted off from her position leaning against the wall and sauntered up to him.

She was a little taller than he was.

Gripping his chin gently with her forefinger and the pad of her thumb, she coaxed him back up to face her again. His vibrant purple eyes was ever shining with the purity of innocence, his brownish-blonde hair had only served to add to his angelic appearance, ruffled just the way she likes it – although she would rather die than to let anyone know that she wanted to have a right to a little indulgence of her own.

The mental image of straight blonde hair had traumatically reminded her of the spoilt brats from the noble families that had pitifully tried to court her at the balls that Prince Jarvan the Fourth, had _insisted_ that she had to attend as she was the sole member of House Vayne.

She watched them with disgust as the flamboyant worthless spawns of demons had pretentiously bragged about their families' wealth and the influence that they had. _Oh_ , how much she had wished that she could have ended them along with their superflously inflated egos with a silver bolt to the throat but of course the prince simply wouldn't allow it.

Absolutely disgusting.

Now back to the subject at hand.

The slight curl to the locks of his hair is indeed very _appetising_. She fought the urge to lick her lips just at the euphoric thought of that, she had to behave like a woman of her stature and nobility unlike a certain bounty hunter.

Shamelessly clubbing a man senseless and then dragging him back into her 'cave', how outrageously primitive. In stark contrast to Sarah Fortune, she was a refined and graceful lady of prestige and propriety, as such she would pursue and court a man in the proper and most befitting method of her status.

She paused for a second.

She was in the midst of blackmailing him.

'Most befitting method' indeed.

But we can't all be perfect, can we? She noted to herself in sarcastic irony.

Now, she had to take a look at what she was getting into and _oh_ , she was _very_ pleased. He was cute and cherubically gorgeous – She reluctantly admitted, albeit grudgingly – , also quiet and shy – She didn't like men that talked too much – and by the way that he had unquestioningly obeyed her whims, it was safe to assume that he would do _anything_ she asks.

This doesn't happen everyday. Oh no, it does not, but – Shauna Vayne liked what she saw.

 _Oh yes, she does._

A sly smirk slithered up into her lush lips. She wouldn't say that manipulation was her forte but damn, she was getting _really_ good at it. She leant in closer and whispered frostily into his ear, something that was only meant for him and only him to listen. Not as if there was anyone else around in the poorly-lit corridor, she had really done it just because of the mood and the atmosphere of it all.

Her hot breath tickled the shell of his ear as his throat went dry in apprehension, his tongue felt like sandpaper against fresh timber as he gulped softly.

She smirked as his face erupted into a brilliant shade of red when realisation had finally dawned on him. Left with nothing else to say and having accomplished what she had originally came for, the Night Hunter stealthily left the scene like an elusive shadow vanishing into the murky darkness of the night.

* * *

Harmonia Buvelle laid on his back as he stared up at the high ceiling of his lavishly-furnished bedroom in the Buvelle Manor.

The ornate curtains had been drawn apart to let in the soft lustre of the moonlight to fill the large room with a silvery glow, the gentle gleam had accentuated the intricate patterns of the textured wallpaper beautifully, there was only silence in the serene night in exception of the grandfather clock that decorated the room at the insistence of Aunt Lestara.

Tick.

Tock.

Tick.

Tock.

He turned his head over to face the grandfather clock which sat cozily on the other side of his bedroom, the old clockwork gears clicked together softly as the pendulum swung hypnotically.

2:42 a.m.

He tossed and turned wearily in the messy sheets of his bed, feeling drained and yet unable to fall asleep as the scene earlier tonight replayed in his head over and over again.

He had just finished a match that was held late at night concerning the ever-ceaseless war over Kalamanda between Demacia and Noxus. There has been many debates with the restoration of the magically unstable village, even more recently so with the petition of Skarner and the refugees of Kalamanda along with his close friend Summoner Belen. With great success much to the delight of the aforementioned parties, the now obsolete Field of Justice known as the Crystal Scar has been decommissioned and was now again inhabited and once more flourishing as a mining settlement.

The Institute of War had decided that the fate of Kalamanda was undoubtedly resting too heavily on a single match, it was to be broken down into a series of matches where the victors could claim certain parts of the village, the earlier match had dictated that the Quarry now belonged to Noxus and now the other locations are up for dispute .

Normally there wouldn't be much of a trouble as the Noxian summoners aren't that – He sheepishly stopped himself from any possible demeaning terms – _experienced_ and that the bond with their own champions were equally as _fragile_.

There was something amiss, it was probably nothing and he was just overreacting but – Lady Vayne had rejected his summoning calls. It wasn't that odd, she was most likely busy and the match was indeed held at night, she is presumably out hunting down the unholy. He had tried to think it through, it really wasn't that strange as she had always taken the precedence of it over the affairs of the League of Legends.

However, she always did heed his summons... It was the first time she had ever declined it. Well, there is always a first time for everything and it was bound to happen sooner or later, he had hesitantly decided – albeit deep down inside he couldn't help but feel a little shaken as to why. Shelving the dilemma into the deepest corners of his mind, he had called upon Quinn to which she appeared almost immediately with a bright smile and a thumbs up.

Unfortunately, the match had gone terribly horrendous with Harmonia and Quinn losing out to their laning opponents.

It was largely due to the fresh new synergy between Harmonia and Quinn that had contributed to the loss as it was the first time that he had ever summoned her and even more so for such an important match. Lady Vayne was usually the one who would represent Demacia and now she had mysteriously disappeared into thin air, leaving him no choice but to turn to Demacia's other marksman Quinn.

It was a disaster. Quinn had stubbornly insisted that she should stack up on attack speed and critical chance for a kill when the opportunity arises and Harmonia thoughtfully refused as he felt that lifesteal was vital as sustenance against such an aggressive duo of Draven and Cassiopeia was crucial to stay in the lane to continue farming on minions, which would then in turn lead to gold for offensive items.

Needless to say, the rock-headed Quinn had wilfully brushed aside Harmonia's opinion and bought the items that she felt was right, only to look on in horror to find herself low on health almost all the time with Draven and Cassiopeia's relentless pokes. Things had only went further downhill when Katarina had roamed down to the bottom lane and slaughtered both Quinn and Sona for a double kill, after which she then proceeded to slit the throats of both the middle and the top laner, Lux and Garen respectively.

And what happened afterwards was quite predictable with the Demacian's Nexus exploding into smithereens.

The Demacians cursed when Noxians taunted them with smirks and cocky gestures as they left the room. Prince Jarvan and Garen had admonished the both of them after everyone had cleared the Summoning Chambers, in reality mostly with Jarvan reprimanding and Garen watching on amusingly.

"What had happened back in the Summoner's Rift was simply unacceptable!

Quinn, it was logical and absolutely reasonable to build some lifesteal against Draven and Cassiopeia. You should have listened to Harmonia's advice and not be so sorely blinded by your own. I expect a full length report explaining why did you blatantly and – If I might add – with such audacity, disregarded your summoner with explicit details accounting your poor foresight and foolish wilfulness delivered to my scribe the next morning.

And Harmonia. You should not just let her do whatever she wants. If you feel that what you think is right, you must stand up for it. Stand firm and resolute in your faith! Quinn is still inexperienced and unfamiliar to the Institute of War and its matches, it is your duty as a Demacian, not only by those of a Summoner, to guide her on the right path. You are one of the most promising summoners that Demacia ever had the honor of bearing its name on your shoulders, carry it well and do House Buvelle proud."

"Y-Yes Your Highness."

"B-But Jarvan-!" Quinn stamped her feet in protest, unleashing the uncontrollable rage that was bursting forth from the renowned explosive temper of the Prince.

"Silence! Enough from you! Another word and I shall personally see to it that you will be forcefully discharged from duty for an entire year, do not test my generosity." He spat out viciously.

"Today, however, is not entirely on the both of you. Shauna was supposed to be participating in that particular match and she had not even gave a moment's notice of her absence. From what I have heard and also seen for myself, the unity and teamwork between Harmonia and Shauna is impeccably flawless and so far they have been undefeated, is that so?" Jarvan visibly relaxed.

"Y-Yes, Your Highness. It is true that Lady Vayne and I happen to have an – ah – affinity for each other." His amethyst eyes looked down onto the marble floor meekly.

"Very well? _Very well_? That is a massive understatement! The both of them were unbeatable! They never lost a single game together, it's unbelievable!" Quinn exclaimed loudly.

"Oh? You and Shauna do make quite a formidable team, I would say so myself, I was spectating one of your matches the other day and the teamwork is indeed unrivalled. Excellent, I will be looking forward to more of such victories in the near future for Demacia then.

And Quinn, it would do you well to keep that _attitude_ of yours in check.

The two of you are dismissed."

Jarvan nudged Garen and the two promptly left the Summoning Chambers, leaving Quinn and Harmonia alone.

Quinn frowned and turned to face him with a sad look. "Harmonia... I'm so sorry for what happened just now... When we first started losing to Cassiopeia and Draven, I just... panicked... It's all my fault. I should've listened to y-"

"Quinn. It's not your fault, alright? It is the very first time that the both of us are working together and things like these are bound to happen. We just have to practice together more often. So don't blame yourself for what happened. Alright?" He took her by the shoulders and consoled her shaky form with an endearing smile.

"O-Okay. I'll try harder next time, I won't let you down again. I promise." She gave a weak smile.

"That's the spirit. It's getting really late, you should head back to your room to get some sleep, you still got a long day ahead of you tomorrow with the report that Prince Jarvan requested for. I'll lock up the Summoning Chambers on my own, just leave it to me."

"Alright Harmonia, thanks! Goodnight!" She brightened up and Valor chirped a goodbye as he flew over to her shoulder from his roost on the Summoning Platform, he wasn't immune to Jarvan's temper either, although the proud eagle would never admit it.

"Goodnight Quinn." He smiled and waved shyly as she skipped out of the room, chattering animatedly with her best friend.

* * *

Harmonia wearily checked his pocket watch after he had closed the grand doors of the Summoning Chambers, it was already way past midnight and that the whole Institute of War was empty of any presence as most have already returned back to their rooms or homes, although he knew that a couple of summoners or champions would still be down at Gragas' pub at the lounge.

Drawing forth and pushing out his mana, his hands glowed blue as he conjured a magical seal on the door to ward off any possible intruders from breaking into the Summoning Chambers. After he had made sure that the magical seal was intact and secure, he turned and walked down the dark corridor leading to the Summoners' Hall when he had noticed a lone figure leaning against the wall in between the huge windows of the hallway.

The silence and the inky darkness was eerie enough even without the mysterious silhouette that was in a darker hue within the shadows that was casted by the pale moonlight filtering in through the windows of the hallway.

Was it a thief? Who would even dare to think of stealing from the Institute of War? The League of Legends boasts the most powerful and strongest beings in Valoran. Anyone who decides to carry out such a foolish and brazen act probably has a death wish or something.

He calmly waited for the figure to make a move but he or she – or it did not. It was just standing there. Watching him. Observing him. It was really unnerving.

"W-Who is it?" He called out in his most intimidating voice, which was admittedly nothing more than a feeble squeak.

He waited for an answer, to which there was none.

What was he supposed to do next?

A long pause soon followed until the figure had shifted from its leaning position against the wall, Harmonia immediately shot up at the sudden act and trembled a little at being caught off-guard at the abrupt movement.

It took a step and another, slowly and dauntingly making its way towards him.

Harmonia readied himself in preparation of a possible confrontation, which again did not have the same imposing effect, thanks to his shaking hands.

His heartbeat drummed harder with each step as the figure inched closer and closer.

It finally stepped out of the shadows and into the moonlit area of the hallway beside one of the many large glass windows where it had let in the pale luminescence of the night.

It was Lady Vayne.

 _To be continued._

* * *

I don't really know why but I have mixed feelings about this. So if you want a second chapter, please do say so and tell me how you feel about it through reviews or PMs.

Your thoughts are what drives and fuels us to go on.

Thank you.

\- Caravere


End file.
